


Drabbles for Teen Wolf!

by BreakfastPastyDrabbles (BreakfastPasty)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Good Peter Hale, How Do I Tag, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, Sassy Peter Hale, Stiles Stilinski Has a Sister, What Have I Done
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:01:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24190243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastPasty/pseuds/BreakfastPastyDrabbles
Summary: Fics I started writing in the heat of the moment and just completely lost the thread. I felt weird having these awkward offcuts on my laptop without a purpose so I'm publishing them.They aren't great!
Relationships: Peter Hale/Original Male Character(s), Stiles Stilinski/Original Female Character(s)





	1. Peter Darling

"Just- It's a family thing! That's it and I told my mom that I'm dating someone, alright!"

"Are you sure your family would accept me? As your someone?" Peter Goddamn Hale was lounging on my couch like he owned the place, looking me over every once in a while, as though he'd forgotten what my outfit looked like or what I looked like under it.

"Yes! They Would!" I exclaimed again, pushing my hair back, "You're exactly what they'd expect of me." I added in a mutter, hoping to god that he'd just agree already so I didn't have to fuss with my outfit any longer. White shirt, buttoned and french tucked, black skinny jeans, black loafers. Smart Casual. 

"Alright." He said and pulled himself up like it to all the effort he had at hand, "I'll be your fake Boyfriend, Just don't fall for me." He teased and pulled at the collar of his Henley a little like it would make him any more handsome.

I'd have punched him if I didn't know it'd do me more harm than him.

"Alright, let's go," I said, making a move for the door before he pulled me back, messing up my hair a little and looking down at me.

"I hope you know this is going to be very hard for me."

I rolled my eyes, "Yeah, try and keep a straight face, lover boy." I teased, pulling his arm around my shoulders before walking to the door, "We'll take my car, yeah?" I suggested and he rolled his eyes slowly. 

"Of course." He muttered and moved away from me, towards my old and busted car. It used to be my mom's so I couldn't tell you the   
the first thing about it, other than it was a weird dark bluish-green colour and it made a weird clicking noise occasionally.

  
The drive to the restaurant was mostly quiet and that worried me. I hadn't talked to Peter much, which was going to be an issue with this little lie in the first place, but I knew that normally if he was quiet, he was planning something. That being said, I didn't know how to start a conversation for the life of me, so I sat there and drove.

"So," Peter started, "What are my future Partner-in-laws names?" He asked and I realised that he was right. He needed information for   
this to go well.

"Mom's name is Katherine, Dad's is John," I started, figuring I could just info dump a little. He'd pick up what was useful, "We're meeting with Mom, Dad, Aunt France, She's my dad's sister, her husband, I don't know his name, and their daughter, Jackie." 

"And What are they like?" He asked, looking at me like I was being a bore, despite the fact I was giving the information he was asking for. 

"I don't know! Uh- Mom's judgemental, so try not to snark too much at her- Dad'll like you, just be yourself, but less- Werewolf." I joked a little, trying to ease the tension in my knuckles as they turned white around the wheel, "France'll ignore you most of the night, I think. She's not a fan of these things."

"Ah, Me and her will get on well-"

"Hey no. You have to try at this thing, alright?"

"Oh, do I?" He said playfully, "What do I get from behaving at this thing- whatever this thing is."

"You get- A favour. One favour, from me." I said shortly, in a hope it'd be enough. I knew that dealing with Peter was like dealing with the devil, so I tried my hardest to make a deal that would be appropriate.

"Alright." Peter said after a moment of silence, rubbing his thighs gently, "So, what did you mean 'I'm exactly what they'd expect of you'?"

"I'm not the trophy child when it comes to good choices with my love life," I admitted before I bothered to think about what I was telling who. I didn't care about this glimmer of information, "Troublemakers, Older guys, Users, abusers, that kind of thing."

"Oh, you're an anything and everything kind of guy?" He teased and I rolled my eyes, fighting the smile on my lips. He wasn't wrong.

"No."

"Liar."

"Shut up? You're not exactly the pinnacle of guys I could be dating. If I wanted that I'd have asked Danny, Or Scott, Or Derek, Or-"

"Yes, okay, I get your point." He muttered, looking at the road as I drove. I know I was harsh to him, but the least I could do was match his banter tonight. He was going to try and make a show of this, and I wasn't going to let him out show me.

  
I pulled up at the venue and looked at Peter quickly, "You ready?"

"Are you?" He shot back with a little smirk on his face before he got out and walked around the car, opening the driver's side door for me. I almost froze as I looked up at him. He was a wonderful actor, this 'gentleman bandit' look he had going for him. 

I laughed a little, getting out before he shut the door and let one of his hands fall to my lower back. He walked me to the door,   
head tucked down a little as he told me 'Stay calm, your heart is beating way too fast'. 

I didn't have the smarts to tell him that he was the only one who could tell. I didn't say anything, instead I laughed a little and   
lent into him a little in hope it'd make this act look, and maybe feel, a hell of a lot more natural.

The greeter pointed us over to the table where my family was sat and I walked over with him, his hand still hot on the base of my back. I should have known he'd be suave, be a gentleman. Peter was always a gentleman until he opened his mouth and let out his voice.

"Oh, you're here." My mother said as though she hadn't pushed my from her body 20 years ago, sipping her wine before she looked over Peter, eyes judgemental as she took in his physique and then his blue eyes, dark brown hair and stubble covered jawline. After a moment, she nodded and Me and Peter took that as our leave to sit, Peter pulling the chair out for me, still attempting to be a gentleman.

I sat and Scooted myself in a little before he rolled his eyes and pushed me in the rest of the way, sitting next to me, "Everything alright?" He asked with a small smile that didn't blot out the sinister in his eyes.

"Definitely." I grinned with a little wink.

"So- What was your name again?" My father said calmly, leaning forward a bit and tilting his beer to point out Peter. I opened my mouth to answer but Peter touched my shoulder and I rolled my eyes, sitting back properly.

"Peter, Hale, you must be John, right? His father?" The blue-eyed demon starring as my charismatic boyfriend asked with a soft smile and a tilt to his head that made me want run my hands through his hair. I realised then that I could. I could tease the devil with all those sickeningly sweet gestures that would make his stomach curl.

Oh, tonight was going to be fun.

"For my sins." my dad joked and Peter shook his head a little. I lifted my hand and tucked the single strand of hair that had fallen from his perfectly styled hair back where it belonged and fought my laughter as I saw him fight not to stiffen under my touch.

"Can't have my man looking scruffy," I whispered so he could hear me, watching as his eyes flickered to me quickly.

"Cheek." He muttered, flicking my thigh and I fought a yelp as I moved to relax into my seat.

Dinner went smoothly enough. 

Peter and I made convincing lies to tell my parents when they decided to pry into my relationship with him. I'd met him while he was out walking his puppy, a black labrador with separation anxiety called 'Derek' and we'd hit it off. Our first date was drinks at the fancy bar just around the corner from his apartment and he'd walked me to his place to hang out on his couch and pet his dog. 

My mother had asked a few more... raunchy questions. Who topped? Were we being safe? That kind of thing and I'd done the obvious thing in this situation. I'd glared at my mom while whining out a long 'Mom' in a hope that she'd stop. She didn't. Peter just shrugged, looked at her with those baby blues and smirked, "What do you think?"

After Dinner my family had insisted on a few more drinks and thus, Peter continued to drink my father under the table, not affected at all by the alcohol. Myself, however...

Peter drove us back to his place and my more than slightly tipsy brain thought nothing of it until he was guiding me into the elevator that would lead to his penthouse. 

"Where are we going?" I mumbled, leaning against him, his arm around my shoulders in the way that really only concerned parents normally did.

"I'm taking you somewhere you can sleep and I can make sure you don't choke on your own vomit." He explained shortly and scrunched his nose up as though he could smell the impending barf. I didn't normally throw up when I was drunk, but I wasn't going to argue. I was a pliable and tired drunk. 

But at that moment, I definitely wasn't drunk. 100% sober.

"Peter..." I whined, looking up at him, "Why do you have blue eyes?"

"Recessive gene pool." He said quickly, leading me out of the elevator when we reached his floor, "Why do you have green eyes?"

"Cause I- You noticed the colour of my eyes?" I mumbled, looking up at him as he sat me on his couch, shaking his head a little. I distinctly remembered hearing him mutter something about 'child' before he moved around, finding a spare pillow and a spare blanket for me to use to sleep with. 

I unbuttoned my shirt and kicked off my loafers, collapsing sideways onto the pillow, though instead of pillow my head met a warm hand, "Careful, Jesus, are you trying to brain yourself?" He exclaimed, moving me to lay don, head against the soft pillow, legs tucked up and until the blanket.

"No..." I mumbled though I was hardly awake at this point, clutching onto what threads of consciousness I could.

Before everything faded to black, I think I remembered a mumbled 'good night' or maybe 'sleep tight'. 

  
I could tell it was early when I woke up. 

There was the smell of bacon wafting through the air, but the light in the room was dim at best, nonexistent at worst. The light was a pale-ish bluey grey colour that leeched the colour out of everything in the room more than the headache I was sporting already was. 

"Good Morning." Peter's chirper voice was way too loud for this time in the morning and I rolled onto my stomach, covering my head with the pillow, groaning a little. Everything was too loud. From the ticking of the modern-looking clock on the wall to the sizzling of bacon in the pan. Too loud.

"Come on, handsome, you have to get up some time." Peter teased and set a place of food onto the coffee table in front of me. Bacon, scrambled eggs and two sausages. 

If I didn't know he was an absolute ass, I'd have asked him to marry me there and then. 

It was another three months after that event before I needed his help again. Another family get together, the same people and my mother had pointed asked if I still had Peter's favour as though I was just his passing fancy. Now I knew I couldn't just ask Scott, or Stiles to go with me. I needed Peter.

I called him almost immediately after getting off the phone call with my mother, hoping he was unbusy.

What's the worst that could happen? I already owed him one favour, another couldn't hurt anyone.

"Hello?" His voice was like a mourning bell.

"Peter, Darling?


	2. Just a Werewolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles's Sister, Toma, gets mortally injured and Stiles does what he thinks is best, unfortunately the results aren't as planned.

"Hey, stay with me!" His voice was strained and it broke my heart, "Don't go, Toma, stay with me!" He muttered, frantic as he tried to hope my side together, the both of us regretting deciding to pull the pole from my body.

"Stiles? Stiles, I'm here," I tried. I tried to let him know I was there, but my words came out jumbled and useless. I forced my eyes open long enough to see his face and the stabbing pain in my chest wasn't from the gaping hole in my side, leaking my guts onto the pavement. He looked so broken. So Lost. 

I was fading fast, but before I passed out completely, I swear I heard him pick up his phone.

I just hoped he was calling an ambulance.

I jerked upright, pulling at the tube lodged down my throat until it came out, leaving me choking and coughing, trying to dislodge the scratchiness in my neck. Looking around, I could tell I was in a hospital, it was late and I wasn't alone.

The Sheriff sat in the armchair by the door, Stiles asleep sat on the floor next to him. I winced a little at the idea of how much pain he was going to be in when he woke up. 

I silently wondered if they took turns sleeping on the armchair, or if Stiles had taken the floor as Penance for a crime he didn't commit.

I looked at the Heart monitor as it beeped insistently next to me and I followed the wires to the wall before pulling hard and cringing as I hoped it wouldn't send fifty nurses running to my little room.

"Stiles." I croaked, pulling off the sticky pads that were pressed against my skin, shivering at the idea of people running their hands over my bare skin, God that made me uncomfortable. 

I looked over my IV and debated before just turning the Valve to cut the flow and disconnect the line from the Saline bag.

"Stiles." I tried again, standing up easily, confused as to why I was in the ICU with no pain. I gave up on talking eventually and booted his foot hard, watching as my dearest brother jerked awake and hopped up, staring at me, like he'd seen a ghost.

"Toma?"

"Hi, Stiles..."

His arms moved slowly, pulling me close to his chest, arms wrapped tight around me, face buried into my hair. Stiles was always protective, so I didn't know what this had been like for him. I hugged him back until he was ready, pulling me away from him, hands moving to my face, trying to feel if I was really there. His lips pressed against my forehead, "You scared the death outta me." He whispered, hands in my hair.

"How long was I out?"

I was sat on the bed now, Dad stood by the door next to Melissa while Stiles sat next to me. There was a moment of silence as though the question I'd asked was incredibly difficult to answer before Melissa cleared her throat and rubbed at her hands nervously.

"3 Days."

"Oh, That's not too bad-"

"Your injuries should have put you out for 3 weeks." Melissa interrupted with a small, apologetic smile, and I nodded slowly.

"Oh," I whispered and looked down at my side then at Stiles, who was sat looking at his hands, looking like it was his fault. I knew what he'd done but I reigned in my impulsive anger.

"Derek?"

"Uh, Yeah... Yeah, Derek."

"Goddamn it, Stiles!" I exclaimed and pulled up my pyjama shirt, pulling off the gauze before Melissa could stop me. It was clear. Just Pale, pasty white skin under the slightly bloodied gauze, despite the hole the size of my head that had been there previously. 

"Dad, Ms McCall... Can you excuse s for a second?" I asked gently and they begrudging left, closing the door slowly behind them before I turned to Stiles.

"What am I?"

"We don't know yet! Seriously, you took the bite, like, way faster than anyone else!" Stiles exclaimed and held up his hands in a sort of mock surrender, "You could be just a werewolf-"

"Oh yeah, Just a werewolf! That's a normal thing to say!" I exclaimed, trying to calm my heart rate.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe I was just a werewolf.

**Author's Note:**

> I am not caught up with the show! At all!  
> So Any portrayal of Characters may seem outdated or just plan off.  
> I'm sorry.


End file.
